We buried you today

After two hours at an unneeded doctors appointment where they just drew blood and didn't even look at the fetus or placenta...we went to Michael's and got stickers and a box and went home and burried you. 

We burried you in the back yard with a stump marking the spot so I can see you when I sit on the back porch. I placed a purple tipped carnation on top, just like I've used in every arrangement for every dead family member since the first one I got to help pick out when I was 10. Papa had them, Grandma had them, Grandpa had them, Nanan had them...and now you had one. 

Your Dad and I cried. He asked me if I wanted to say anything, and I shook my head. I just kissed my hand and laid it to the box. He covered the dirt back over top. We walked back inside and held the dogs. Then I had to get to work on the wedding flowers for this weekend. Because with or without you, life went on. 

I didn't want it to, but it did. And I spent the afternoon with Aunt Aliya feeling human for just a little while. Before sinking back into the tub, into tears, to write this. 

We buried you today. And the world didn't stop turning. And my heart didn't stop hurting. But I can feel like you're finally at peace.